


The Other Side - Ruelle

by stealing-jasons-job (changingthefairy_tale)



Series: Songs That Scream Bellarke [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (mostly), Angst, Bellarke, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I apologize in advance for the angst, So much angst, The 100 (TV) Season 1, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changingthefairy_tale/pseuds/stealing-jasons-job
Summary: S1 canon-compliant (mostly) one-shot that recreates the moments right before Clarke had to shut the Dropship door with Bellamy on the other side.Inspired byThe Other Side by Ruelle, which is such a Bellarke song it fucking hurts. I highly suggest listening to it while you read!SpotifyYouTubeAppleGoogle Play
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Songs That Scream Bellarke [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759135
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	The Other Side - Ruelle

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic in a series of one-shots all inspired by some of my favorite songs that give me Bellarke feels. <3 
> 
> Buckle up ladies and gents, this is going to be a rough one.

_We are buried in broken dreams,_

_We are knee-deep without a plea_

_\---_

“Clarke! They’re taking down the gate,” Miller stumbles into the dropship, where Clarke is leaned over an unconscious Raven. Chaos is raining down around them, with the grounders closing in, Raven close to dying and Bellamy and Finn both outside fighting for their lives. 

“Good, because I did it...I think,” Jasper pops up from the hatch that leads down below. If he was right, that meant the dropship was ready for blast off. 

At Jasper’s words, Miller nods. “I’m closing that door.” 

“Wait!” Clarke jumps up, rushing toward the door with Finn close behind. “We’ve still got people out there. Bellamy’s not back, yet.” 

There were only a couple dozen in the dropship, and there was no sign of Bellamy. God, he should have fallen back by now. They had to get as many of the 100 inside as possible before closing the doors. 

Gunfire and smoke fill the air. The grenades Raven made as a last resort are thrown as the first grounders breach the gate. 

“Alright, everybody get inside now!” Clarke yells as loud as she possibly can, hoping she’s heard above the clashing of metal, war cries, and shots fired. 

“Get down!” Finn nearly tackles her as arrows fly by so close she can feel the air whoosh by her hair. They duck behind a makeshift blockade while Miller holds off as many as he can from the doorway. 

More grenades are thrown, but it’s impossible to stop the onslaught of grounders. As more of the 100 run out of bullets, they continue to fall back into the relative safety of the dropship. They wouldn’t be able to hold them off for much longer. 

_Where is he, where is he, where is he?_ Clarke asks herself, squinting through the darkness and the smoke for that familiar head full of curls. 

“There he is!” Finn points to the treeline as Bellamy emerges from the tunnels. They lock eyes, and for a fraction of a second, Clarke thinks everything might be okay. But there’s a grounder-filled battlefield in between him and the dropship doors. 

“He’s never going to make it,” she mumbles, more to herself than Finn. “Bellamy run!” she screams, more desperate than she’s willing to admit to herself. Adrenaline is pumping through her body, but her heart is beating wildly for an entirely different reason. 

He picks up a gun as Tristan stalks toward him, sword in hand. Bellamy pulls the trigger, only to find it empty. Clarke is stuck watching from afar as Tristan swings at him. 

Bellamy dodges the first swing, but can’t avoid the fist to his face that immediately follows. Clarke watches almost in slow motion as Bellamy is beaten down by the larger grounder. A knee to the abdomen, a punch to the jaw, a slash to the shoulder. She feels each hit as if she were being kicked in the gut, tears forming in her eyes. 

“They’re killing him,” she whispers, terrified for the man she’d quickly come to depend on since they landed on the ground. 

It’s a stark realization to have in the middle of a battle. _I don’t want to do this without him._

He may have started off as a thorn in her side, an arrogant prick hell-bent on making her life on the ground even harder than it already was. But they’d quickly realized there was more to each other than meets the eye. 

They’d bonded over their will to survive, their need to protect their people at any cost, the burden of leading a group of delinquent teenagers. He’d shared hidden parts of himself with her, and she’d done the same. He is undeniably her partner now, her co-leader… maybe even something more. 

  
  
  


But it doesn’t seem like she’ll ever get to figure out what that something more might be — his body sags a bit more with each hit. 

“Give me that,” Finn’s order breaks her stare, and she watches as she grabs a gun as some kid runs into the dropship. He fires at Tristian, hitting his shoulder. But he doesn’t stop there, running out to help. 

“Stop! Finn, no!” Without hesitation, she jumps to follow, but Miller’s hand around her elbow keeps her in place behind the barricade. 

Finn rams into Tristian, pushing them both to the ground, and Bellamy wrestles himself on top of the grounder with a blow to the face. 

“Clarke, you can’t save everybody!” Miller yells in her ear, but she barely hears him. She’s fixated on where Finn and Bellamy are teaming up to fight Tristan, frozen in horror as she watches the two young men she needed most grow more bloodied with each passing second. 

“Let’s go!” Miller tries again, pulling on her arm. She fights to stay put, but he’s persistent. 

The last of the grenades fire off, and Clarke looks around at the scene in front of her. Their makeshift home was filled with bodies, both grounder and her own people. She watches as a young girl is stabbed by a grounder, killed instantly. Clarke thinks her name was Penelope, only 14 or 15 years old. 

They’re running out of time. If she keeps that door open much longer, she’d be sacrificing the rest of the 100. She’d be condemning more kids to die on the hope that Bellamy and Finn might survive. 

She turns again to where Bellamy and Finn are fighting. Finn hits the ground hard, gun coming up just in time to prevent Tristan’s sword from splitting his face in two. Bellamy takes the opportunity to land a harsh blow to the man’s temple, and he falls to the ground unceremoniously. 

“Get inside! Bellamy, Finn! Run!” she screams so loud her voice gives out at the end. _Let them make it_ , she prays to a God she doesn’t really believe is listening. She’ll give them another 15 seconds, she owes them both that much. 

They both turn to run, and hope surges within her. 

But it is ripped away from her as fast as it had arrived Another grounder tackles Finn to the ground. And as soon as Bellamy realizes Finn is no longer right behind him, he turns back to help him. At that moment, Clarke simultaneously loves him and hates him. 

“Now or never, Clarke!” Miller urges. He hasn’t left his place beside her, occasionally firing off bullets. Bellamy was right to advise her to keep him close. She knows what she has to do, but she’s glued to the ground. 

She can’t leave them out here to die. She can’t. 

Bellamy crashes to the ground from another punch, blood spraying from his mouth. His eyes catch hers and they stay locked on each other’s gaze. 

Even from more than 50 feet away, she can see the look on his face. The look telling her to leave him, telling her to go inside and close that door. 

She shakes her head, probably too small of a gesture for him to see in the dark. But he reads her, in that annoying way he’s been able to do from day one. He gives her a nod of his own, eyes communicating everything he can’t say out loud. 

_Do it,_ they say. 

_I can’t leave you,_ her own respond. _I don’t want to know the other side of a world without you._

_If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. But you have to do it, Princess._

Tears are streaming down her face, and the entire world is minimized to this moment. Miller is all but dragging her back toward the dropship doors, as she struggles in his arms. 

She knows logically that this is the only way to save her people. She knows she has to sacrifice Bellamy and Finn and anyone else remaining outside if she wants to save the kids inside. But everything inside of her is screaming at her to keep that door open, to wait for Bellamy. 

“No!” she fights against Miller, but his hold doesn’t falter. 

Bellamy gives her one last smirk, mouthing something at her. In the moment, she doesn’t process what he’s saying. But she knows the look in his eyes, the set to his jaw. He might give it readily for closing the door on him, but he would never forgive her for not saving the rest of those kids. 

More grounders breach the gate, and she gathers the strength to do what must be done. She tries to find Bellamy or even Finn one last time, but they are both lost in the haze of smoke and fire surrounding the dropship. 

She closes her eyes, trying to imprint his face on the back of her eyelids. She can do this, she can do this. For him and for Octavia who was still out there somewhere with Lincoln and for everyone else her mother sent down to die with her, she can do this. 

_May we meet again._

She runs to the dropship, where Miller is waiting. Once inside, she lifts the lever to shut the doors. 

Anya manages to get inside as Jasper tries to get the wiring to cooperate to start the rockets. It’s a mob, everyone trying to get a piece of Anya the second she’s down. Clarke tries to stop them, her anguish momentarily pushed aside. 

The Trikru leader is curled in a ball, almost unconscious. 

“She deserves to die,” Miller’s voice cuts through, his dagger swinging through the air. But Clarke catches his arm before it can come down. 

“No! We are _not_ grounders.” She gets everyone’s attention with that, and the rioting stills. 

“Clarke, waiting for your signal,” Jasper says from the ground. All eyes are on her and Jasper, who has two wires ready to jumpstart the rockets. They can all hear the grounders pounding on the outside walls. She closes her eyes, not willing to let any more tears fall. Not when the rest of her people are watching, not when they need her to be strong. 

The door has been shut, the decision to leave the rest — to leave _Bellamy_ — outside to die has already been made. But for some reason, the nod she gives Jasper is just as hard as pulling that level had been. 

Her eyes remain closed as the rockets fire, as she feels the momentary lift into the air and hears the corresponding screams outside. She tries unsuccessfully not to think about Bellamy and Finn’s voices being among them. 

Silence soon envelopes the dropship. They all look around at one another, unsure what to do or how to feel. 

“We did it!” the first cheer erupts, and soon more follow it. The rest of the delinquents whoop and holler, thanking the universe and any gods they believe in for keeping them alive. 

But the sounds of their triumphant chants is the breaking point for Clarke. She feels the last of her resolve drain, and she drops the radio she’d been clutching all night. 

Her legs fail her, and she stumbles back toward the wall of the dropship before crumpling to the floor. Miller crouches down next to her immediately. 

“Clarke, Clarke. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he starts feeling for wounds, and she shakes her head. A sob escapes her, the first of many. She curls up in a ball, her head in her lap and her hands covering her ears. 

She can’t listen to them cheering. Not when the cost was hundreds of lives, both grounders and her friends. Not when Finn risked his life to save Bellamy. Not when neither of them made it back in time. 

She can’t hear the excited yells and the relieved laughs, not when her mind keeps playing the sounds of those screams on repeat. Not when Bellamy and Finn’s were among them. 

Miller slides down beside her, wrapping a hesitant arm around her shoulders. No soothing words, no calming movements. He just sits there — solid presence next to her, silent permission to fall apart. 

And that's exactly what she does. 

It's not until her eyes are dry, her body is numb, and she's standing outside the dropship doors in the morning sunlight that her mind processes what Bellamy had mouthed to her as Miller dragged her back to the dropship door. She closes her eyes and looks up, silently hoping that there is some universe out there where he still exists, where they might have had a shot at more than war and destruction and death. 

_I love you, too, Bellamy Blake. I love you, too._

_\---_

_I don’t wanna know what it’s like to live without you,_

_Don’t wanna know the other side of a world without you_

**Author's Note:**

> Do you hate me? I definitely hate me a little. lol Y'all know I can't help but revel in angst. But this is a canon-compliant fic, which means Bell didn't die. <3 So there's that. 
> 
> Kudos, comments, prompts and yelling at me because of the hurt are all welcome and encouraged. Thank you for reading! Come hang out with me on Tumblr [@changingthefairy-tale](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/changingthefairy-tale).


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